


Connected

by gallantrejoinder, teacupsandcyanide



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Getting Together, Love Confessions, Love Epiphany, M/M, Oblivious, Oblivious Todd Specifically, Pining, Realization, Zach That's Gay the Vine but as a fic, do not copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-26 11:51:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18716500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallantrejoinder/pseuds/gallantrejoinder, https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupsandcyanide/pseuds/teacupsandcyanide
Summary: Todd "recharges" by cuddling with Dirk, which is perfectly normal behaviour for two best friends, and anyway, it's only because Dirk has psychic energy that makes Todd feel the happiest he's ever been. It's normal.Right?





	1. Chapter 1

Todd’s having a shitty day, which once upon a time was par for the course. He’s out of practice with shitty days since meeting Dirk, though, so … He’s not exactly coping as well with this one. The printer’s fucked off to printer heaven, they had a prank call masquerading as a client, Todd had gone out to deal with it only to have to take the bus home in the rain, and of course the bus was crowded _and_ late, it just couldn’t be one or the fucking other, no. It just _had_ to be both. All of that means that as soon as he barges into the office, he stares at the broken printer for approximately ten seconds before slumping over it and groaning in defeat.

Farah, who had been squinting at some kind of tax document (since neither Todd nor Dirk have any idea how to approach such an endeavour and Farah strictly vetoed the idea of committing tax fraud), looks up at him in alarm.

“Okay,” Farah says, in her slightly soft, slightly strained way, “I think that’s the end of the work day, then.”

Todd groans again in response.

“I’ll, um, make you some tea.”

“No, no. Thanks, Farah,” Todd mumbles, “But honestly it’s cool, don’t even worry about it. I’ve just gotta –”

“Oh my god, Todd, just let me make you the tea. Do you want earl grey or chamomile?”

“… Chamomile.”

And that’s how Todd ends up shunted back into the apartment upstairs, Farah at his back with two freshly made mugs of chamomile. She sits them both down at the table briskly, with all the ruthless efficiency that she typically musters for breaking and entering, or fighting off bad guys. Once they’re sitting down at the kitchen table, though, Todd still staring into space, she looks a lot less certain.

“Are you … um, are you okay? Do you want to … talk about it?”

“It’s fine,” Todd sighs. “Just like, a really long day, you know?”

“Yeah. To be honest I don’t know much more about the tax stuff than you and Dirk do.”

“What, seriously? _Dirk_?”

“Well – okay, I know more than him.”

Todd cracks a grin at that.

“Really, it’s fine, Far. I just need to recharge when Dirk gets back.”

Farah gives him a sharp, odd look. Then she takes a slow sip of her tea, frowning at him. Todd waits for her to reveal whatever thought it is that she’s gotten stuck on. He knows her well enough by now to know that she’s got something she wants to say.

“… Why do you need to wait for Dirk to get back to recharge?”

Todd shrugs. “Oh, you know. How he just like … recharges people when he’s around?”

Farah stares at him. “No?”

“Well it just – like it’s a holistic thing, you know. With the psychic energy.”

Farah’s shaking her head though, looking bewildered. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Now it’s Todd’s turn to look confused. “It just – like when he’s around, you know, how you just feel better? And then like, if you hug him –”

“ _What_?”

Todd frowns, feeling defensive all of a sudden. “I don’t know, it’s just … because of all his holistic stuff. Sometimes we just like, hug it out you know. Until I feel better. He’s really good at it. We just, kinda … hug.”

“That seems – I – Todd …” Farah is giving him one hell of a side-eye. “I don’t do those things with Dirk? And I don’t … feel ‘recharged’ when he’s around.”

“Well it’s probably just, like, a me and him thing, you know? Because we’re super close or whatever. I mean loads of best friends are like that.”

Todd feels a blush creeping up his neck. To his surprise, he finds himself embarrassed, though he doesn’t know why. Something about the look Farah’s giving him makes him want to squirm.

“Todd,” Farah says carefully, “you’re _my_ best friend. And Dirk too. But _I’m_ not like that with either of _you_.”

“Well, yeah, but like …” Todd shrugs and tries to smile, weakly. “You know just being around Dirk is enough too. Come on.”

Farah just squints. “… Is it, though?”

“Yes!” He doesn’t understand how she’s not getting this. “Farah, he’s just one of those people who lights up the room when he’s in there.”

“I mean …” Farah wrinkles her nose in concentration, clearly trying to pull up memories. “Sort of? You mean like when he’s in one of his bubbly moods –”

“No, no, all the time. Like he’s just like. You know, a …” Todd gestures vaguely with his hands. “… A presence.”

Farah barely mouths the beginning of the word _what_ , seemingly rendered speechless. A frisson of discomfort rises up Todd’s spine.

“Look, it’s like I said. It’s just, you know, the whole not-psychic not-magic thing,” he insists. “He has a lot of good energy and it transfers to people around him. I don’t even think he knows he’s doing it.”

“O … kay. But. I mean, Todd, I love Dirk but I don’t feel like _that_ around him. And we _do_ hug sometimes, but it’s not ...”

“Oh,” Todd says quickly, “well that’s probably just –”

“Todd,” Farah interrupts. Todd falls silent, gripping his mug tightly. “What does it … feel like when Dirk … ‘recharges’ you?

Todd flails for the right words.

“It … Nice.” Oh, God, Todd wants to put his head through the table and never be seen again.

“But it’s probably just one of those me and Dirk things,” he adds hastily, before Farah can say anything. “Like to do with his energy. Because we met in a time loop, and we were kind of fated to meet each other and be really close and like, I mean … we love each other heaps and there’s like a connection of holistic energy between us or something and it just – it makes me feel things, okay Farah?!”

Farah makes a flat noise that somehow sounds exactly like an unimpressed tuba.  “Like. _What_.”

Todd swallows. “You know. Like feelings. In my chest. And other … places.”

Farah makes a choked sound.

“They’re normal feelings! Perfectly normal feelings!”

“Well then describe them to me! Because I have _no idea_ what you’re talking about!”

“Fine! Fine!” Todd cries, annoyed. “It feels like …” He thinks. “Like there’s … all this energy inside me. And it keeps growing, and growing, and it should be too much but it _isn’t_ , and it makes me happy and so –” He grapples for the right words, “So overwhelmed, but not, and it makes me feel like crying but not – in a bad way, and it … It feels like there’s sunshine running through my veins, and it’s flowing out of me and shining right out into the world but I don’t … I don’t _care_. I don’t care. I just want to be … exactly where I am. With him.”

The defiance dies out of him as quickly as it came. Behind, it leaves a gentle ache.

Todd suddenly remembers the last time Dirk had recharged with him. Dirk had put his head against Todd’s shoulder so ... carefully, and sighed. It had sounded sad.

“That’s … Todd, that’s beautiful,” Farah says softly. She sounds weirdly touched. But then she hits him on the arm. Repeatedly.

“Ow!” Todd tries to duck her blows, shocked. “Hey, what the fuck!”

“YOU’RE SO STUPID, TODD. OH MY GOD.” Her voice has gone all high pitched, and _loud_. Todd tries to protest but she interrupts him. “YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH HIM!”

Todd stares at her. Then he bursts into laughter.

“Oh my god, _what_?”

Farah does not look even remotely amused. “Todd, it literally could not be more obvious!” she snaps. “How have you not figured this out! It took me twenty-six years to figure out I like girls, but that’s _still_ not as clueless as – UGH!” She keeps hitting him.

“Wh – hey!”

“I cannot _believe_ you, and I cannot believe that Dirk – Oh my god.” She stops hitting him. “ _Dirk_.”

Todd immediately stills. “What about Dirk?!”

Farah doesn’t say. She just sits back in her seat. Then she forcibly takes another sip of her tea, frowning heavily in Todd’s direction. Todd stares back defiantly, refusing to get all squirmy again.

“Okay,” she says, calmly, “you’ve …” She pulls an uncomfortable face. “ … Liked people before, right? Surely what you’re feeling with Dirk is the same?”

Todd shakes his head, because of course it isn’t. It feels cheap to even pretend like it’s the same kind of feeling. It almost makes him angry to think about it. Actually it _does_ make him angry.

“No, Farah, it’s not …” He leans forward, shaking his head.

“It’s what?”

“Don’t – it’s not the same, it’s more …”

“More what?”

Todd snaps. “I’ve never felt about _anyone_ the way I feel about Dirk!”

… Oh no.

Oh _no_.

“Oh no,” he says, faintly.

There’s a long silence. Farah’s wide eyes say a lot more than anything she’d shouted at him could.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I don’t think you were ready for that.”

Todd can only hear her from a distance. He’s busy thinking about every single time they’d … ‘recharged’ together over the past six months, oh god, this has been going on for _six months_. When they’d first started, it had been by accident. Dirk had just … hugged him, when Todd had been tired and angry and upset, feeling himself falling into the slipstream of self-hatred he’s been trying so, so hard to extricate himself from. But then Dirk had hugged him, and it had felt so good. Like every nasty voice in his head went silent. Todd had let himself wrap his arms around Dirk, pulling him in, and it had been just, just … blissful, and peaceful, and quiet. And then Dirk had murmured something about how he’d been told he was quite a good hugger, and Todd had said, _Yeah, probably ‘cause of all your holistic energy stuff_ , and Dirk …

Dirk had been quiet for a long moment, before finally whispering, _Yes. Yes, that’s probably all it is_.

“No,” Todd begins to say, hesitantly, “‘cause look … Even if I … I mean, someone like Dirk would never …”

“No! No, fuck that!”

Todd blinks. It’s not that Farah _never_ swears, but when she does, it’s usually because things are serious.

“We are _not_ going down that road! Listen, Todd. I love you so much, and you’re my best friend, but I am _not_ going to pep talk you into believing that someone loves you back when it’s painfully obvious that he does.”

Todd titters nervously. It’s an awful sound that he’s never made before and never wants to make again. Farah winces for him, but presses on.

“No, _listen_. Have you asked yourself _why_ he lets you do the hugging thing?”

“He’s a huggy person!”

“With friends, yes. But like. Dirk and _I_ are close friends. Dirk and _Amanda_ are close friends. And we hug on occasion, sure, but – what you’re talking about sounds like _cuddling_.” She fixes him with an interrogating kind of glare. “Does Dirk cuddle anyone else?”

“I …”

Farah sighs, rubbing at a spot between her brows as if Todd is actively giving her a headache. “Like, I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but Dirk doesn’t like people touching his skin? He’s fine with pressure, like if someone grabs his arm but he’s got his jacket on. But skin on skin contact is – I mean, he literally just hates it.”

Todd can’t find the words to explain himself to Farah. Because it doesn’t make any _sense_ , why would Dirk … It’s one thing to want a best friend, which Dirk so obviously had when they’d first met, but it’s something else entirely to want … And with _Todd_ , of all people. Maybe Todd’s not good with his own emotions, as today is so clearly proving, but he _knows_ Dirk. He would know if Dirk was in love with him. Wouldn’t he?

“Todd.” Farah is looking at him very closely now. “When you recharge, do you touch each other’s skin?”

Unbidden, the sense memories of their recharge – fuck it, their _cuddling_ sessions come flooding in. Dirk holds Todd’s hands a lot. He tells Todd it’s to keep them warm. And other times, he presses his face into Todd’s neck and Todd can feel Dirk’s breath against his collarbone, soft and steady. There’ve been times too, when they’d … Todd flushes all over again at the memory. They’d fallen asleep together on more than one occasion, and Todd had woken with Dirk wrapped around him, hands slipped under his shirt and bare legs pressing together.

He shivers.

“Sorta.” His voice cracks, and he hastily clears his throat. “Sometimes he does this thing, where if I put my cheek on his forehead he makes a noise and goes limp like he’s really happy, it’s so –”

Farah makes a strangled noise.

“… Cute. Oh god.”

Farah spreads both her hands in a _there you have it gesture_.

“Oh my god, I’m in love with Dirk.” The moment he says it his whole body floods with a rush of terror. “I love Dirk. I’ve loved him for years. Oh my _god_.”

Farah sighs and stands up from the table. She walks over to the window and presses her face against the glass like she’s very tired, but Todd barely notices, still muttering to himself.

“I’m so stupid. What do I do – do I – do I ask him out? What if he – wait, what if we’re already together and I just – I’m too stupid to notice? No. No, I’d know. Yes? Yes. I know I’d know. Definitely. Okay. So do I want to be with him? _Obviously_ I want to be with him. Oh my God, I want to be with Dirk. How do I do this, what do I say, how do I – do I just tell him I love him? Like just say it? But we already tell each other that. Like all the time. We tell _you_ that – Farah! Farah, help.”

Farah tries to smile reassuringly, but ends up looking just more alarmed. “Sorry, I … you’re on your own.”

“What am I gonna _do_?”

Farah opens her mouth, but something outside the window makes her do a double take and widen her eyes. She squeaks.

“Well, you better decide soon, ‘cause he just walked in downstairs.”

Todd nearly chokes. “ _WHAT_?”

Farah rushes back to the table, raising her hands to Todd’s shoulders, patting him ineffectually. “Hey, hey,” she says, and it really would help him feel more relaxed if she didn’t look so panicked, “it’s okay, you don’t have to tell him right now!”

“But –”

The sound of the door downstairs slamming shut cuts him off.

Dirk is shouting up the stairs. He sounds excited, which is as to be expected with Dirk. “ _Todd! Farah! I got DONUTS_!”

“Oh my god he got donuts.” Todd struggles not to hyperventilate. “Farah, I think I –”

“I’ll go. Or I’ll stay?” Farah looks at him with wide, worried eyes. “Do you want me to stay?”

“No, I –”

He can’t think. The sound of footsteps on the stairs is coming closer.

“ _Guys? I already ate two but there’s still four left! Don’t be mad_?”

Perhaps it’s the sound of Dirk’s voice giving him courage, or perhaps it’s Todd’s wildly overactive sense of self-destruction, but he turns to Farah with a determined face.

“I’m gonna tell him.”

“Okay,” Farah nods, taking a bracing, deep breath. “Okay! Good luck!”

Oddly, she pats Todd on the top of his head before rushing out the door. There’s some kind of commotion on the landing.

“ _Oh, hi! I got donuts. I ate the cinnamon ones but there are two iced ones and a jam –_ ”

“ _Sorry-Dirk-gotta-go-love-you-bye_!”

… Todd really does love Farah.

“ _Oh. Oh, see you! Love you_!”

There’s a pause, during which Todd can hear Farah rushing down the stairs.

“ _Hey, Farah, can I have your donut_?” Dirk calls after her.

Todd stands up from the table, trying to ignore the sudden sweat patches that are forming under his arms. He tries to convince himself he’s not making a terrible mistake – but there isn’t time for that, because the door is opening, and he’s already made his choice.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Great British Bake Off contestant voice] Started making it. Had a breakdown. Bon appétit.
> 
> No, seriously though, I'm REALLY sorry this chapter took longer than expected to be uploaded, I've been having some mental health issues for the last couple of days. Much better now, though!

It's been a pretty splendid day, and Dirk isn’t really sure how it could get any better. First he’d woken up to the gentle sound of Todd plucking away at the guitar which Farah had gotten him last Christmas. Dirk isn’t sure what song he was playing, but he doesn’t care – it had sounded like raindrops. A lovely way to wake up.

By midday Dirk has also finalised a Word document he’d been working on all week, an extensive compilation of every photograph he had managed to find of himself, Todd, Farah, Tina, Amanda, and Hobbs. It’s been a tricky project, because all six of them had had specific life periods which had to stay strictly out of the compilation. They’d all had an embarrassing phase of being an emo-punk-scene kid, or a drug addict, or a lying stealing kind-of-arsehole. Par for the course, really, when your friends are interesting – at least that is Dirk’s opinion – but he had managed to get the pictures together and take them downstairs to print. The printer shudders awfully towards the end of the forty-second page, but Dirk gets them all finished and can now look forward to putting them up around the apartment.

The afternoon holds more delights when it rains in the middle of Dirk’s weekly donation run around the common haunts of the local homeless population. His constituents are less excited about it, and he has to help Rosie out of the downpour, but Seattle always looks lovely in the rain, with all the traffic lights blurring into rainbows on the streets. Dirk takes a deliberate long-cut way home to enjoy the weather, which ends up leading him past a little bakery. He picks up a half-dozen varied donuts with Todd and Farah in mind, but the cinnamon ones are freshly baked, and the rain is cold, and the juxtaposition between the two too tantalising, so Dirk opens the bag.

By the time he walks through the front door it’s fairly late, and the cinnamon donuts are fairly eaten, which he feels a little guilty about. Todd and Farah are nowhere to be seen, and the darkening office feels weirdly ominous without their presence. Dirk swallows the strange feeling of indefinable “off-ness” with the last enormous mouthful of cinnamon donut. He’s just being silly; they must be upstairs. He wanders wetly through the empty office to the stairs that lead up to his and Todd’s apartment.

“Todd! Farah!” he calls up the stairs as he swings the door open. “I got donuts!”

There’s no response, which again gives him an ominous little twang, but perhaps they just have the telly on. As he climbs the stairs, he peers into the bag to inspect the damage that recent-past-Dirk has done to the half-dozen he bought. Mmm. Not great.

“Guys?” he calls again. “I already ate two but there’s still four left! Don’t be mad?”

No reply again, but now that he’s closer he’s fairly certain he can hear voices in the flat. He relaxes somewhat, at least until the moment that he steps foot on the landing, and Farah rushes out of the apartment so fast that she nearly takes Dirk out with the door.

Dirk, once he regains his balance, perks up at the sight of her. “Oh, hi!” He offers her the bagged cardboard tray of donuts. “I got donuts. I ate the cinnamon ones but there are two iced ones and a jam –”

Farah is already edging past him as if the hounds of hell are behind her. “Sorry-Dirk-gotta-go-love-you-bye!”

She flees down the stairs to the office without even a glance behind her.

“Oh. Oh, see you! Love you!” For a moment he’s a bit perplexed, then something occurs to him. He calls after her hopefully, “Hey, Farah, can I have your donut?”

Farah simply disappears through the office door with a rattling of the knob. Dirk is still puzzling over this when he opens the door and sees Todd standing by the kitchen table with an absolutely incredible expression on his face. It’s something between indigestion and utter, utter terror. Mostly it just reminds Dirk of how Todd looked last month, at the exact moment when Dirk finally convinced him that they did, indeed, need to jump out of that hot air balloon.

“Todd?” Dirk takes in Todd’s balled hands, which are currently hovering at his sides as if he fears he’ll need to throw a punch at any moment. “Are you … alright?”

“Fine,” Todd says, and takes a breath. He seems to make a conscious effort to look more relaxed, which simply makes him inflate like a very anxious pufferfish. “All good.”

Dirk realises exactly what this must be about. “Shit. It’s the donuts, isn’t it? I know you said –”

“No,” Todd cuts him off, “no, it’s not the donuts.”

“ _Something’s_ wrong.”

Todd just shifts on the spot uncomfortably, curling and uncurling his fingers. Dirk isn’t sure what to think or say, so he just hovers his way further into the room. Fortunately, the closer he gets, the more Todd seems to relax, and by the time Dirk sets the donut bag on the kitchen table he looks mostly like his normal self, just … drained. It’s a look Dirk recognises immediately.

He smiles gently, raising a hand to smooth out the slightly damp tufts of hair at Todd’s temple. “You had an off day, didn’t you?”

Todd closes his eyes, leaning into the touch – the way he always does, and Dirk’s stomach rushes with soft, warm delight the way it always does.

“And you’re all wet,” Dirk adds with a frown, taking in Todd’s soaked jacket. “What –”

Todd jolts as Dirk runs a hand down the length of his arm.

Dirk grins, and pulls at Todd’s hand playfully instead, “You’re always so ticklish.”

Todd takes a deep breath, “Dirk –”

“I know, I know, you hate being tickled and if I tell anyone where you’re ticklish then so help you god – come on, let’s get you out of these wet clothes.”

Dirk starts towards Todd’s bedroom, but is yanked to a halt by the man in question, who has apparently frozen up.

“Todd? Come on, I’m wet too, and it’s – Todd?”

Todd has started having a coughing fit. Dirk pulls a disapproving face at him.

“See, you’re going to make yourself sick. Come on, at least just change your top layers …”

He wraps an arm around Todd which seems to soothe his coughing fit almost instantly. Dirk takes advantage of the moment to usher him into his bedroom and sit him on the bed.

“You and Farah …” Dirk mutters to himself as he opens Todd’s wardrobe, “I love you both so much but you’re absolutely dreadful at letting other people look after you. Oh, you – Todd, really!”

“What?” Todd still sounds slightly hoarse.

“How did this get into such a state?” Dirk looks down at Todd’s t-shirt drawer in dismay. “I give them to you nicely folded and then you do this …”

Todd doesn’t reply, but as Dirk turns around with a fresh shirt he does catch the end of something that sounds suspiciously like, “… Let you watch Marie Kondo …”

Dirk throws him a clean shirt with a pointed look, then half turns away to strip off his own wet jacket and shirt. Before Todd can object to him pilfering, he also nicks the tattiest shirt he can see in Todd’s drawer and pulls it over his head. He breathes in the perfect, perfect Todd-smell. It has the same quality to it as the bakery; warm, comforting, all things good. His heart pangs a little, but he adeptly shushes it.

“So, shall I …” He trails off; Todd hasn’t even taken off his jacket. He’s just sitting on the edge of his bed with a flushed, slack-jawed look and staring at Dirk.

Dirk looks down at the faded Pink Floyd shirt he’s stolen. “What? You normally don’t mind _that_ much if I steal your clothes.”

“… No,” Todd replies, in a faint, deliberating tone, “I _don’t_? Oh my _god_ …” His expression changes to something vaguely akin to embarrassed disbelief.

The day must have taken more out of him than Dirk previously estimated. He softens, and crosses over to him.

“Come on,” he says coaxingly, “you’ll feel better once you’re –”

Todd jerks to attention the moment that Dirk tries to pull off his jacket, “I can do it! I can – it’s fine.”

Dirk withdraws with amusement. “Okay. You do it.” He leaves Todd to his own devices; Dirk’s learned by now that Todd’s liable to be oversensitive when he’s in a bad mood anyway. “I’ll make us some tea and then you can recharge, alright?”

As he’s leaving Todd’s room, Dirk notes (not for the first time) that it’s very tidy for someone with such overstuffed, messy drawers.

Todd takes a little while to change, but Dirk potters about in the kitchen making tea and plating up a couple of donuts. He carries it all over to the sofa and sets it on the rickety, luridly red little table that was probably once part of a child’s furniture set but which Dirk found on the side of the road and has been using as a coffee table ever since. Farah hates the sight of it, which means that Dirk partially keeps it just to delight in being a provocative nuisance. Todd abstains from getting involved in what he calls “office drama.”

By the time Todd reappears, he’s looking much more composed.

“See, I told you you’d feel better.” Dirk smiles, putting his arms out for a hug, “come over here.”

Todd meets him at the sofa, but he doesn’t settle down into Dirk’s arms. Up close, his face has a fixed, determined quality to it.

“Hey, listen, I – is that chamomile tea?”

“Yes?” Dirk falters. His arms are getting a little stiff from being held up. “I thought … You usually want chamomile tea on a bad day.”

“No, I – you’re right, it’s just …” Todd shakes his head. “Never mind, listen –”

“Did I do it wrong?” Dirk asks, suddenly feeling stupid. He puts his arms down.

“What? No, the tea’s perfect, I promise.” Todd sits down next to him, and begins to say, in a voice loaded with meaning, “Dirk, I have to tell you –”

“Ah, ah, ah! None of that!” Dirk puts a finger on Todd’s lips, which very effectively makes him splutter into silence – he’d learned that trick last month, and had been utilising it ever since as particularly useful excuse to touch Todd’s mouth.

“No, Dirk –”

“Todd,” Dirk fixes him with a look, “do you need to recharge?”

“I … sort of, but –”

“Then, shush.” Dirk scoots back on the sofa until there’s enough room to pull his feet up, then he opens both his arms and legs in what he hopes is an inviting, Todd-sized enclave. “You know the rules. No business before recharging.”

“I know, but I need to tell –”

Dirk sticks his fingers in his ears, “La-la-la-la – not listening …!”

“ _Dirk_!” Todd shoots him a murderous look.

“What – oh, _what’s that_ , _Todd_? Do you have something important to say? I’m sorry, it’ll have to wait until we’re done …”

“Seriously, you need to –”

“Todd, darling, do shut up and let me look after you.”

Todd shuts up. Glowering – or perhaps just very pink – he climbs begrudgingly into Dirk’s open embrace. Dirk wraps both arms around him tightly and pulls him closer, until they’re both tucked securely into one corner of the sofa, Dirk with his back to the arm-rest and Todd leaning against his chest.

The moment that they settle into each other, everything else settles too. All the moving pieces of the day that had been bustling about fall softly into place like feather-down. Dirk presses his face into Todd’s hair and inhales: _Todd, Todd, Todd, Todd_. The best smell in the universe.

Todd is stiff at first, stiffer than usual. Dirk realises with a pang of worry that today really must have been dreadful, because Todd hasn’t been this stiff at the start of a recharging session since the routine began. Perhaps Dirk _should_ have let him say whatever it was he wanted to say – but no, they’d worked out a method to these things. Todd always said that talking about whatever was bothering him worked best _after_ recharging, not before. He said that recharging reset him; it made him see everything clearer.

Dirk had been so touched the day that Todd told him that. For a few seconds, he’d also been stupid enough to feel ridiculously hopeful – until Todd had followed the confession up with a wan but grateful smile, and said: _You’re like, the best friend I’ve ever had, man_.

There’s no point thinking about that now though, so Dirk pushes it away, banishing to the squashed little box of feelings he’s been keeping jammed in the back of his brain. He focuses instead on Todd, Todd in his arms right here and now, Todd who is beginning to finally relax and sink into Dirk’s hug as if it’s a warm bath at exactly the right temperature. Todd, who sighs, and has no idea the things it does to Dirk’s aching heart.

Okay, so it’s difficult not to think about the horribly unrequited feelings he has for his best friend when said best friend is curled up in his arms in exactly-but-not-at-all the way Dirk wishes he would. Dirk has been doing his best not to think about it for six months now. He’s tried not to think about it while Todd absently runs his fingers through Dirk’s hair, while he presses Dirk’s face into the crook of his neck, while he slips his hand under the thick leather of Dirk’s jacket seeking warmth and comes to rest right over his heart.

Dirk doesn’t really believe in the concept of guilty pleasures. As a general rule, he thinks that if you love something, and it hurts neither you nor anyone else, you shouldn’t have to feel guilty about it at all. But “recharging” with Todd just about twists that logic into a Mobius Strip, because Dirk’s completely uncertain whether it hurts neither him nor Todd, hurts them both very much indeed, or does them the world of good.

Consider, item number one: Dirk is  _in love with Todd_ , very much so, terribly so,  _hopelessly_ so. He wants to kiss him and pull him against his chest and fall asleep with him every single night.

Item number two: Todd simply _loves_ Dirk. He tells him he loves him every other day, in various, painfully casual ways; _Oh hey, you folded my laundry, thanks, I love you, man! See you at lunch, asshole, love you. Dirk, I love you, but stop trying to stick your spoon to your nose at this fancy restaurant._ Todd isn’t in love with Dirk, he simply loves him.

Item number three: The six months that Dirk and Todd have been “recharging” together have been the best of Dirk’s entire life. Dirk would have felt elevated enough simply by being that close to Todd, but the obvious fact that Todd not only wants to be close to Dirk but is actually bolstered by it seems like an endless pleasant surprise. Dirk wants to look after Todd. He wants to be _the_ person who does that, the only person in the world who can always make Todd Brotzman feel better. He deeply, genuinely enjoys it, because he’s always liked making people happy, he’s always wanted to be special to someone, and the fact that he can make the best person he’s ever met happy is unspeakably precious. He knows this would be true no matter whether his feelings for Todd were romantic or platonic.

Where all this falls down; Item One runs headlong into Item Two and promptly crashes miserably to the ground like a pigeon being hit by an ice cream truck. Item Three walks into the situation like a concerned animal-lover with no medical experience, trying to resuscitate the pigeon and keeping it alive at the expense of shattering its ribs. Dirk wants Todd in a very specific way, and Todd categorically does not return the feeling. Dirk enjoys their “recharging” sessions in a way that he shouldn’t, and that’s definitely something he should feel guilty about – because in a way isn’t touching Todd so incessantly under false pretences just a way of taking advantage of him? Or is it okay, because Dirk can’t really help his feelings and just wants to be a good friend too, and Todd needs affection, _needs_ to be touched, and is completely oblivious to whole matter anyway?

Well, that’s not quite true, which makes it infinitely worse. There are some days when Dirk almost convinces himself that secretly, Todd is in love with _him_ too, and oh, aren’t those the worst. Like the day that Dirk found Todd on the floor of the kitchen coming down from a pararibulitus attack, and half an hour later when Todd was capable of speaking again the first thing he said was, _I thought you were an angel_.

The worst afternoons are the ones where they fall asleep on the sofa and Dirk wakes up to find Todd looking at him with something like quiet, pure adoration in his face. Then there are the dozen or so times that Todd has caught Dirk’s eyes and smiled just so, or leaned in while teasing him about his ties, or pressed so close while hugging him that for a shining split second Dirk is certain that Todd is about to kiss him.

And Todd never does kiss him. And why should he? He’s not obliged to. He hasn’t signed a contract. Dirk doesn’t require kisses in return for his recharging services, he just desperately wants them in a _I-love-you-I-love-you-please-love-me-back-one-day_ sort of sense. ‘One day’ would be nice, and Dirk can live with ‘one day.’ In the meantime he alternates between rushes of euphoria and silent guilt, and he waits and he aches, and he finds it altogether quite paralysing. Whether or not it’s hurting Todd, it’s getting harder to avoid admitting that it’s certainly hurting Dirk. Still, when they’re wrapped up in each other like this, Dirk can’t find it in him to want to be anywhere but exactly where he is.

Todd shifts in his arms, moving them both back until they’re more upright and Dirk is the one leaning against Todd’s chest. Dirk follows his movements absently, resettling on Todd’s shoulder. Todd lets out a sigh. It sounds sad, which Dirk hates, so he refocuses. He presses closer. He breathes in, and releases both the air and the tension in his body consciously, with measure. Dirk has learned that if he relaxes his body, Todd’s body will almost always mimic him. So he tries to lead by example, and as he slowly breathes out he imagines with all his might that he can imbue Todd’s actual aura with sunshine if only he tries hard enough.

It’s an idea that Todd himself put into Dirk’s head after their first “recharge” session; that maybe Dirk could, for the first time in his life, consciously control his so-called psychic energy just to make Todd happy. And, yes, Dirk would if he could, but the reality is not nearly so simple. As much as he loves hugging, it hasn’t always come naturally to him. The anxiety of where to put his hands and how much pressure to apply was at first compounded by a profound lack of experience, and Dirk had to learn the whole thing by rote. Worth it, of course, worth it by far, but still – he had to learn.

Dirk has become adept over the last six months at not only ignoring his feelings but paying excruciatingly close attention to every receptive movement of Todd’s body. It’s been a tricky thing to juggle, admittedly, but it’s paid off. He’s confident he’s now the leading world expert in the specific but very culturally significant field of ‘How To Hug Todd Brotzman.’ Dirk continues to let Todd think it’s an innate gift rather than a talent acquired by rigorous study, because Todd absolute cannot know that, for the same reasons he cannot know about the notebook Dirk keeps under his bed that has a very incriminating page scribbled with jottings like ‘ _relaxation techniques_ ’ and ‘ _hair stroking: thoughts?_ ’

Todd has finally, completely, relaxed now, by Dirk’s expert estimation. His breathing has slowed, as has his heartbeat, which Dirk can hear clearly. A part of Dirk – the part he’s been kicking internally an awful lot lately – wants to hold Todd’s hand, which is curled around Dirk’s shoulder, but a stimulus like that usually distracts Todd at this point of the session.

Dirk swallows and redirects his gaze. It’s only then that he notices that there are two mugs on the kitchen table, neither of which had been there when Dirk left at noon. They’re also both a tasteful shade of blue-ish-grey, which means that they’re mugs that Farah bought, and which usually live in the kitchenette connected to the office downstairs. All the mugs and cups that Dirk and Todd own are mismatched, hellish kitsch examples of Walmart bargains and 1970’s _Muppet Show_ sippy cups.

Dirk can just spy from his vantage point that the teabag tabs dangling out of both mugs are the lemon yellow of the brand of chamomile that Farah keeps in the kitchenette. Farah must have made Todd tea before Dirk got here. Which means that when Dirk made Todd his chamomile tea, Todd had already had some – he was just trying to be nice.

That’s a realisation which would usually make Dirk laugh, but with it he remembers how strange Farah looked on the landing – oddly panicked – and how she had sped down the stairs as if actually fleeing. And how, when Dirk opened the door, Todd was standing there already facing it, with an equally weird expression on his face …

Anxiety swoops into Dirk’s stomach. Farah had been here with Todd for long enough to drink some tea. Farah had left in a rush, looking upset, and then Todd had looked even more upset … What if Todd hadn’t had a whole bad day, he’d just had a bad ten minutes? Something must have happened to upset both of them – had they had a fight?

It’s an awful thought, the idea of his two best friends fighting, but then Dirk’s unrelenting brain comes up with something worse.

Had Todd … made another move on Farah? Nothing creepy or disrespectful, because Todd would never do that, and more tellingly he’d still had all his limbs attached when Dirk arrived. But maybe they’d finished work early and decided to go up to the apartment where it was nice and warm. Maybe they’d brought some tea with them. Maybe, with the rain pattering softly on the windows and the steam rising from mugs of fresh tea, Todd’s feelings about Farah had resurfaced. He had been almost surprisingly quiet about them since they left Bergsberg, but maybe they hadn’t – as Dirk had begun to hope – completely faded.

Maybe Todd would much rather be doing all of this with Farah. Maybe Dirk was just second-best.

Suddenly Dirk is filled with a lot of emotions all at once, or rather just three or four, but to an overwhelming intensity. Guilt, for being jealous of Farah when Farah is literally one of the best people in the whole universe; guilt again, for selfishly hoping that Todd would have forgotten liking her in that way; heartbreak, hurt, and a crushed feeling, as if his heart is being pummelled and sat on and squeezed. All of it just adds up to that same muddled, paralysing anxiety, really, the kind that floods his brain and makes his chest burn. Everything is sore.

And then Todd starts stroking his hair.

Dirk’s heart jumps like a frightened, hunted animal. He’s sure he stiffens, but Todd’s fingers simply continue to comb through Dirk’s hair in long, smooth strokes. The movement is tentative, yet somehow certain at the same time. Usually when Todd touches him it’s in an absent-minded, unthinking way, as if it just comes to him as the most natural course of action. The way he touches him now is deliberate, and that’s enough to send de-stabling vibrations right through Dirk’s already heightened nerves. At least at first. Then the repetition of it, the calmness of the movement, begins to lull him, and he feels himself palpably loosen like a tangled ball of string slowly being plucked apart and straightened out.

Dirk’s mind is soothed into a state of still, simple quiet. It’s not silence, nothing blank or absent, merely _quiet_. It feels like the essence of sitting by a window and watching the raindrops trickle into patterns on the panes, like the sound of a teacup clinking softly into place on its saucer. It’s a patch of moonlight falling on his bedroom floor at night. It’s bliss.

This is another thing that Dirk hasn’t found a way to admit to Todd; their "recharging" sessions don’t simply work one way.

 Only now, Todd shifts again. He draws Dirk against himself – and Dirk, who is currently rendered dreamy and pliant by all the hair-stroking and the simple fact of being wrapped in a blanket of ‘ _calm-nice-good-Todd-energy_ ,’ is pulled half into Todd’s lap without being fully cognisant of it. At least, until the moment that Todd nestles his head against Dirk’s in a slow, languid way, and his mouth ghosts across Dirk’s cheekbone.

Skin-on-skin contact is generally … a lot for Dirk, and usually it’s unpleasantly _a lot_ **.** The sensation of _Todd’s_ skin against his, Dirk has come to find, is still _a lot_ , but in all the best possible ways. Right now, however, Dirk’s mind is running absolute riot.

Todd’s mouth is still against his cheekbone. Todd’s eyelashes are still tickling Dirk’s forehead, his nose is brushing against Dirk’s temple. For a completely wild moment Dirk thinks Todd is kissing him – but that is – that _definitely_ _cannot_ be true. Todd is probably a million miles away right now, thinking of something else – thinking of Farah, even –

The thought that Todd might be so engrossed in thoughts of Farah that he doesn’t even realise his mouth is pressed softly against Dirk’s face – that’s the most painful thought yet. Dirk tries to sit up as anxiety hits the bottom of his stomach sickeningly – but Todd moves again and does something which successfully turns Dirk’s entire system to goo.

Todd turns his head and presses his cheek onto Dirk’s forehead. And of course, as it always does, it makes Dirk’s brain feel as though it’s melting into actual gold. Dirk doesn’t really understand it; it’s something to do with the pressure of Todd’s cheek and the softness of his skin contrasting with the hardness of his jawline and the slight prickle of his facial hair. Dirk just knows it makes everything both shut down and go into a surreal, heavenly sensory overload at the same time. Being held by Todd is like a quiet walk in the woods. Having Todd’s cheek on his forehead is like being hit in the face with a very soft feather pillow, only the pillow is also full of skin-tingling electricity.

Usually Dirk seeks this out. Usually he wriggles in Todd’s arms and pushes his forehead against Todd’s cheek until he’s found exactly the right spot, the right angle, the right pressure. But right now, it’s suddenly all too much, and his body is trembling, but not for the usual reasons, and he whimpers, but not for the usual reasons. He draws back abruptly and the soreness of reality rushes in the moment his skin leaves Todd’s cheek.

“I …” Dirk’s darting eyes land on the red coffee table. “The tea. Oh, the tea – it’ll overbrew – I should …”

He tries to leap to his feet, and almost manages to – but loses his balance when Todd pulls him back into his embrace. He falls back against Todd’s chest with a small ‘ _oof_.’

Dirk stares straight ahead, slightly stunned. He can feel Todd’s heartbeat thudding steadily against his back; Todd’s arms have circled around his waist and now – now one of his hands is slipping over Dirk’s tense fist. Dirk tries very hard to remember that breathing is necessary for continued survival – though he’s not sure how he’s going to survive this.

He’s not sure he can handle it if Todd starts making this behaviour a regular occurrence. It’s far too much and too little. It’s agonisingly close to what Dirk desperately wants from him to the point of it being a parody of exactly that.

But Todd’s hand is so tender around his; his blunt fingers feel like starlight against his skin. Dirk feels his hopes flutter, and he swipes at them internally, nets them and holds them down and tells them very, very sternly: _absolutely_ _not_. He is not going there. He is not going to be greedy. He is not going to be selfish.

When Todd leans forwards and his mouth brushes against the curve of Dirk’s ear, Dirk decides he’s had enough. Dirk is done. Dirk is finished. Dirk Gently is checking out of Heartsmash Hotel. See you later. Adios, mes amis.

He doesn’t even get a chance to tell his limbs to move before Todd speaks, so softly, into the shell of Dirk’s ear.

“I love you.”

Today is a nightmare.

Dirk summons up all that remains of his willpower to reply, casually, “Love you too. Man.” He tacks ‘man’ on at the end, because what’s more casual than two guys, right? Just two, normal, sane guys cuddling each other in their apartment with no strings attached?

“No, Dirk. I love you.”

Dirk forces out a laugh, then forces himself to shake out of Todd’s grip. He unsure what’s more painful, that Todd holds onto him tightly at first, or that he does actually let go.

“I love you too,” Dirk says again as he jumps up and to the coffee table. His hands fumble the tea bags slightly, and there’s probably a slightly manic edge to the cheeriness in his voice, but hopefully Todd – beautiful, oblivious Todd – is not going to choose the worst possible moment to suddenly cotton on.

Dirk is determinedly avoiding Todd’s eyes, but Todd is beginning to sound frustrated when he says again, “No. Like. I love you.”

“Ha, ha, yes. Love you too!” Dirk chirps in forced sing-song as he drops the teabags in old saucer and flees with saucer in hand to the kitchen for no other reason than desperately wanting to be as far away from Todd as physically possible.

Todd, who’s apparently an oblivious sadist as well as an oblivious beauty, follows him.

“Dirk,” he says, as if he’s trying to stress the matter and has absolutely no idea that all he’s doing stressing Dirk, “I _love_ you.”

“Todd, if this is a competition, you picked the wrong guy, because I _am_ going to win and,” Dirk says in a rush, “I love you too.”

Todd tries to pull at Dirk’s arm, but Dirk dodges him, dropping the saucer of teabags in the sink with a clatter that stings his own ears.

“Dirk. _Dirk_ …”

Dirk still doesn’t look at him, he can’t – he skitters away back into the main living area again, but Todd still gives chase.

“I’ve never met anyone I care about as much as you!”

“Yes, yes, you’re my moon and stars!” Dirk chatters back, heading for the coffee table, because maybe if he can persuade Todd to put hot liquid in his mouth it will stop him from talking.

Instead, Todd darts into his path and blocks him, and oh dear, he doesn’t look very happy. “You drive me insane.”

Dirk edges around him with an uneasy, tight smile. “You light up my life.”

“You mean _everything_ to me, Dirk.”

Had Todd said this at another time, and with a less angry expression, Dirk probably would have melted on the spot. As it is, he tries to laugh it off, backing away towards the sofa.

“I … that’s …” He tries for touched, but not too touched. “Aww, Todd, I feel _just_ the same, you know that – you’re really being very sweet today but it’s –” His legs hit the edge of the sofa, and he falls back.

“Dirk, I mean that _I love you_ ,” Todd says, and it’s too much; it’s too much and it’s too little.

“Yes,” Dirk replies, “I love you too.” He tries to be nonchalant, he really does, but his voice finally catches.

And Todd looks like he’s getting less oblivious by the second.

“I love you,” he repeats, looking straight at Dirk with eyes that are adamant and quiet.

Surely not. Surely not.

“Yes,” he chokes. “Me … too.”

Dirk tries to shrink himself by pressing back into the sofa, but Todd – oh, god, Todd climbs into his lap.

“I love you.”

Dirk consciously holds his entire body still. His hands itch to reach for him, so he balls them into fists. Todd is too close, so Dirk shuts his eyes.

Todd’s hands are running up the sides of Dirk’s waist. Dirk can sense Todd’s chest leaning closer, but it’s only when he speaks that Dirk feels just how close he is.

“I love you,” Todd says, the same deliberately tender way he had been running his fingers through Dirk’s hair. His lips brush against the lower corner of Dirk’s jaw.

Dirk keeps his eyes shut. He holds his breath, the same way he’s been holding his breath for six months.

“Dirk. I have to tell you. I was talking to Farah before you got here.”

Dirk doesn’t want to hear the details of _that_ ; he tenses further and moves to escape – but Todd presses what is, absolutely and undeniably, a small, gentle kiss to the spot where Dirk’s jawline meets his neck. Dirk loses all ability to think let alone move.

“She was helping me figure stuff out. Stuff I …” Todd laughs quietly, “probably should have figured out on my own. But you know. Classic me.”

Dirk’s mind tries to race, but it’s a bit like trying to run while being tied into a large hessian sack. It hops a few times, grunts, then falls flat on its face. Todd really isn’t helping – his hands are curling around Dirk’s hips now.

“Wanna know what I figured out?”

Dirk opens his eyes. Todd is so close his face blurs, but Dirk can still see him very clearly. He’s not sure he can believe what he sees, though. Until Todd kisses him.

It’s on the mouth this time, which is a relief, because that does help define the situation a _little_ better. Unfortunately, it also means that Dirk is so gobsmacked that he can’t actually respond. He just sits there while Todd straddles his lap and kisses him with all the soft love and desire that Dirk has been craving for half a year.

Todd, of course, pulls back with sudden uncertainty. “Shit, have I completely fucked –”

Dirk seizes him by his faded shirt and pulls him back into another kiss. He does so a little too enthusiastically, and Todd’s nose bumps against his a little painfully, but Todd is kissing him back – they’re _kissing_ , _they are actually kissing_ – and then Awful Bad Thought Of The Day No. 21 occurs to Dirk. He draws back.

“Wait, I’m not just – you said were talking with Farah, and this isn’t, like – you’re not just doing this because of something to do with Farah, are you?”

“Wh – Farah?”

Todd looks so absolutely and profoundly confused that Dirk realises he’s been very silly indeed. All of his jealousy wilts into embarrassment in the space of a second.

“I – Never mind,” he says quickly, and hastily resumes the kiss.

Todd, thankfully, seems all too happy to oblige. He cups Dirk’s face and leans in – and Dirk realises with a surprised sort of thrill that Todd is _eager_ to kiss him. He’s kissing him as though he wants to, as though it comes naturally, as if there’s nowhere else in the entire Universe that he would rather be than here on this sofa, doing his level best to make Dirk’s heart fill with light.

Now there’s a thought that makes him sigh. He lets himself reach up and press a hand against Todd’s heart, and he feels it racing underneath his palm. Dirk can feel his own heart beating madly in his throat as they kiss, he can feel his head rushing the way it does when Todd does that ridiculous thing with his cheek. It’s different though, completely different; instead of being hit by a pillow made of electricity it’s like … well. It’s like being kissed by someone who is in love with him. Which, it turns out, is far more overwhelming.

They kiss and kiss and kiss, and Dirk’s brain is far beyond melted and heading towards evaporating entirely. Still, apparently six minutes of snogging on the sofa doesn’t make up for six months of forcibly platonic cuddling, because Dirk’s nerves begin to get the better of him again.

When he moves to pull out of the kiss Todd’s lips follow his for a brief moment, and when Dirk does sit back Todd looks … exactly he like did the night he’d sworn that he could hold his alcohol for as long as it took to get one very suspicious bar patron to give him a very specific address. In a word, drunk.

It’s almost enough to give Dirk pause, but he has to know for certain. “When you say you love me, do you –”

“Oh, Dirk …” Todd gives him a look that says _you’re being ridiculous and I’m not even going to entertain it_. He tries to lean in to kiss him again.

Dirk, who is well-weathered against that exact look, stops him. “No, Todd – I know, I know it sounds stupid, but I need to be sure –”

“I’ve been making out with you for the last ten minutes!”

“Okay. But as like – friends?” Dirk squints. “Or as like ….? Like maybe you want to … go – get chips ….?”

Todd stares at him. Then he bursts into laughter. Dirk glares at him.

“ _Todd_. Todd, shut up.”

“Get chips?”

“I’m trying to clarify things, okay? We’re recharging and then you start telling you love me and kissing me _completely_ out of the blue after half a year of me pining hopelessly for you and –”

Todd cuts him off with a smile, “I want to get chips with you. I don’t know why you want to have a date at the supermarket, but sure.”

“No – chips as in …” Dirk squints at him again. “Oh my god, are you thinking _crisps_? You think I want to go buy a packet of crisps with you on a hot date?”

“Dirk.” Todd smiles, “Anything you like.” He sobers slightly, “I’m sorry, this is so … I know the last six months must have been – god, probably full of mixed messages. I didn’t … I think it just didn’t occur to me. At all.”

Dirk draws back, a little stung. “What, to … want me like that?”

“No, to realise that I already did.”

Dirk blinks. His poor aching heart begins, tentatively, to glow.

Todd leans in, and presses another kiss to Dirk’s mouth that feels like all things quiet. Moonlight pools in the centre of Dirk’s heart.

“We’re connected, Dirk,” Todd says softly.

Dirk feels himself go soft, just like Todd’s voice – soft and quiet. A teacup finding its place on the saucer. And finally, he lets himself say it properly.

“I love you.”

Todd smiles like a man completely in love. His eyes dart down to Dirk’s mouth, and the smile turns into a blush. An actual, honest-to-god, _blush._ Todd is blushing because of him – and that, of course makes Dirk blush.

“What?”

“You’re, um …” Todd looks to the side and mutters, “You’re a really good kisser.”

Dirk preens, then he remembers something, and he grins.

Todd, who seems to recognise that look, narrows his eyes. “What …?”

“Must be all my _holistic energy_ ,” Dirk says mischievously, “I’m just _so_ good at kissing because I’ve just got _boatloads of magical healing powers_ , I’m just so darn _gifted_ –”

Todd shuts him up by shoving him sideways onto the sofa, pushing him onto his back.

“Dirk, I love you,” he grins as he leans down to kiss him, “but shut up and let me look after you.”

Dirk is happy to oblige.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dirk's descriptions of "quiet" are inspired partially by "Quiet" from Matilda the Musical, which is an extremely Dirk song - as is "Naughty" from the same musical.
> 
> If you would like to recharge this fic you can support it by reblogging the link to it [here at my Tumblr](https://teacupsandcyanide.tumblr.com/post/184802357172/connected-chapter-1-gallantrejoinder), which you can also check out if you'd like to support me in general. My partner's Tumblr is [here](https://gallantrejoinder.tumblr.com)! If you enjoyed this fic please leave a comment or review below, my partner and I really thrive on them!


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